


caverns of my limbs

by weatheredlaw



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Confessional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: They know when you are the very last ones, love is just another truth. Just another part of you.





	caverns of my limbs

**Author's Note:**

> joules - Today at 4:59 PM  
> CRYING WHILE FUCKING IS SO  
> WASH
> 
> yeah

_and of all the thousand ways the world could tempt me_  
_i've never met a better fighter than her fear_

 

* * *

 

He can’t make it stop. There’s a voice in his head that tries to tell him _that’s York’s girl, it’s Yorks girl you’ve got your mouth on, it’s York’s girl saying your name_ ㅡ but Wash doesn’t care.

York is dead. Breaks his fucking heart to think about it, but it’s the truth.

He thought they were both going to die down there. He thought he was going to die on Locus’s ship, blood dripping onto the metal floor while Locus applied pressure and tried to activate another healing unit.

_Stay awake, Washington. Stay awake._

Well ㅡ he’s awake now. He’s awake and Carolina is kissing his neck, kissing the place where his wound has healed under Grey’s expert hand, a mottled scar just under his jugular, just under the place where he would have bled to death in seconds.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she says. “I thought you were gone, I thoughtㅡ”

“Hey. It’s okay.” He pulls back, looking her in the eye. Her hair is mussed, lips spit-slick and red. She doesn’t allow him to stare. They’re kissing again, and Wash _wants_ this, he wants it and she’s letting him have it. He groans into her mouth and pulls her toward his bed, sliding his hands under her shirt and gripping her sides.

Carolina tumbles backwards onto the mattress while Wash yanks off his shirt. He takes her face in his hands, kissing her cheeks and nose, down her neck and trying to pull her shirt off, too ㅡ

But she’s frozen.

“Carolinaㅡ”

“...Wash.” He feels her press a hand to his chest. “God,  _Washㅡ_ ”

He looks down.

He’s always known what his body looks like. It’s never been an issue ㅡ armor hides it all. But he knows his chest and back are a map of scars, criss-crossing and telling stories he sometimes barely remembers. Explosions and falls, gunshots and implants. Not that Carolina is free from them, not that her skin doesn’t bare their shared history, but he looks like _patchwork_ on the days he decides he wants to look in the mirror.

“It’s okay,” he says, and drops down to his knees. “It’s alright.” He reaches down and carefully lifts her shirt, touching one of the long scars from what looks like a knife wound on her side. He bends down and presses his lips to it, tracing it with his tongue while she cards her fingers through his hair and strokes his cheek.

“I know what you are,” he says. “It’s what I am, too.”

Carolina draws him back up to kiss her. It’s slower now. Careful. Wash feels it in her touch. She tosses her shirt to the side and pulls off her sports bra. Wash tries not to stare. He doesn’t want to be _crude_ , but it’s been so long since he’s seen a woman naked he could win records. There isn’t time for that though. Carolina leans in presses her lips to his ear. “Get undressed,” she says, as she stands and does the same.

She finally urges him onto the bed, kissing the scars that cross his chest. Her movements are frantic, like she’s worried he’s going to disappear. Wash supposes she has a point. He cups her face in his hands, drawing her toward him and kissing her forehead.

“Slow,” he says.

“...Iㅡ” Carolina’s voice cracks and she buries her face against his neck. Wash kisses her temple, carding his fingers through her hair

They are the last of their kind. Relics in their own right.

Carolina lifts her head and kisses his cheek. “Slow,” she says. She slides a hand between them, wrapping it around his cock as she sits up. Wash strokes her thighs, watches as she presses the tip of him against her entrance and slides down his length. She puts her hands on his chest and fucks herself on his cock, breath coming in shallow gasps. Wash feels lucky that he doesn’t make the sounds he knows are trying to claw their way out of his chest. He whispers her name, reaches up and runs his thumb in a circle around one of her nipples.

She takes his hand and clutches it to her breast, while her other hand reaches down and fingers her clit. Wash finally moans, a long and broken thing that forces Carolina to look at him. He sits up, clutching her to his chest and dragging his lips across her cheek.

“I won’t leave you,” he says. “I won’t, Iㅡ”

“Don’t promise me anything,” she says. “Don’t.”

“Carolinaㅡ”

She reaches for his face and kisses him. “I love you,” she whispers, and though it should sound like a confession, it’s just a truth, finally spoken aloud. He doesn’t believe she is _in love_ with him, but he has loved her for longer than he can say. They know this about each other. They know when you are the very last ones, love is just another truth. Just another part of you.

Wash holds her tighter, hands splayed across her back, lips pressed to the hollow of her throat.

“I love you, too,” he says. Her hands slide into his hair as they meet each other, thrust for thrust. She feels incredible, she _is_ incredible. Wash looks up into her eyes and she smiles, kisses the corner of his mouth.

He feels bold, and rolls her over onto her back, still buried inside her. The movement forces him deeper and she cries out.

“ _Wash_ ㅡ”

“Like that?”

“Yes, _yes_ ㅡ”

He’s starting to feel the residual exhaustion from recovery, but she keeps saying his name and Wash wants to _feel her_ , because she has almost left him a hundred times, has almost left _him_ alone and the idea of a world without her, a future with only one of them in it _terrifies_ him.

She laughs and murmurs, “ _Slow._ ”

Wash nods.

“And don’t cry.” Her thumb brushes his cheek and she kisses his brow. “I love you,” she says again.

“Don’t cry.”

 

* * *

 

After she holds him close, and Wash is so exhausted that he doesn’t mind when she tucks him under her chin and folds her arms around him, kissing the top of his head.

“Our friends are still back there,” he murmurs. He can feels his eyes drooping.

“I know.”

“We shouldㅡ” He yawns and tries to sort out his words. “Should go get them.”

“We can do that.”

Wash closes his eyes. “...Did you ever think it’d be us? The only ones left?”

She doesn’t answer. Wash figures he must have crossed a line, or maybe he didn’t even say anything, he’s not sure.

He’s close to sleep when he hears her laugh before she pushes herself down to meet him, their noses touching.

“No,” she says. “But I’m glad I’m with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @ weatheredlaw


End file.
